


With Dignity

by Chichirinoda



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Begging, M/M, Service Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:03:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chichirinoda/pseuds/Chichirinoda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of the Sufferer, Darkleer is paying for his crimes. But Orphaner Dualscar is willing to grant him a favour or two, if he earns it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Dignity

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [King Bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) for the square "Begging".

He'd seen the sea dweller before, the one with two scars running like lightning bolts across his face. Throughout the weeks - first he was interrogated, then tortured, then it seemed his tormentors were simply having fun with a body that was useless to everyone, but too strong to die - the sea dweller had been there, directing and supervising. Rarely had he wielded the whip himself, but he had usually been in the room, watching, occasionally asking Darkleer a question, or voicing a command.

Today, the sea dweller didn't come down to Darkleer's dank, stinking cell. Instead, they had cleaned Darkleer up, dressed him in a simple, badly-fitting tunic and pants with his symbol emblazoned upon them in blue, and brought him up into the light.

Darkleer found himself being led into a lavishly appointed suite. Half the room was submerged under water, and Darkleer suspected that the majority of the living space was down there. Up here was a sitting room, and the sea dweller with the scarred face was sitting in a chair, his chin resting on his palm.

"You can leavve us," said the sea dweller, lifting his head and gesturing to Darkleer's guards. Then he pointed to Darkleer. "And you can kneel."

Darkleer glanced towards a drain in the floor, near where he'd been told to kneel, and relaxed. The punishment for what he'd done had been severe, but soon it would be over. Perhaps it would be painful, perhaps the sea dweller planned to enjoy himself one last time, work off all of the pent up energies of mere watching Darkleer being tortured for a perigee without participating. But it would be over.

He knelt, and it felt so good to do it. Despite the chains binding his wrists together before him, it was like being free. 

Here was a strong, powerful-looking sea dweller - epaulettes shining, armour gleaming, rings glittering on his fingers - who was going to tell Darkleer what he was going to do for the rest of his life. And after that Darkleer wasn't going to have to worry about anything, or feel guilty, or question himself, ever again.

The sea dweller leaned forward. "My name is Orphaner Dualscar."

Darkleer hesitated. Why was he introducing himself, after so many weeks? After a long moment of utter confusion, he came up with something to say. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

Dualscar made a soft, amused sound in his throat. "Are you?"

The blue blood said nothing.

After a few moments, as Dualscar clearly waited for a response that wasn't forthcoming, the sea dweller straightened again. "I'vve brought you here, as a disposition's been decided for your case."

Ah, firmer ground. Darkleer lowered his head further, his fingers clenching in his lap. The two trolls were close enough that the tips of his horns nearly touched Dualscar's knee. "Yes, sir."

"It's been a struggle, decidin' wwhat to do wwith you," Dualscar said conversationally. The sea dweller got to his feet and began to move, circling around Darkleer with a measured tread, his boots thumping on the decking. "At first, wwe assumed you wwere nothin' but another a his followwers, despite your pedigree. But wwith your record, and the results a your interrogation, it's clear you're not. I don't knoww wwhy you did it, but it's not because you're one a his."

Darkleer was scarcely listening. He watched surreptitiously, his breathing deepening a little with anticipation, as he waited for his superior to carry out his sentence.

Dualscar came around to the front again, and touched him. A clawed, beringed hand slipped down Darkleer's cheek and cupped his chin, bringing his head up. "So in light a your swweeps a servvice, I'm givvin you a chance to be exiled, not culled."

Darkleer's jaw dropped. He stared into those purple eyes, shocked and dismayed, tears gathering at the corners of his own eyes. Exile?

"Sir, I...what?"

Dualscar smiled. It wasn't even a cruel expression. "You're wwelcome."

"Please!" The word was torn from his throat, hoarse from weeks of his screams. He lunged forward, grabbing for the sea dweller, heedless of his own strength. The sea dweller backed up, startled, and fell into his chair again, and all Darkleer grasped was a corner of his cape. "Please, sir. I don't want that."

"Wwhat?" Dualscar's expression turned from alarm to open confusion.

Darkleer bowed deeply, clutching the fold of cloak to his face, his forehead pressing to Dualscar's knee. Here was the one person who could save him, who could give him permission to die, and he could tell that Dualscar was trying to offer him a boon. Why, he couldn't quite understand.

"Please, sir," Darkleer whispered.

A low rumble of irritation sounded in Dualscar's throat. "Don't snivvel," he hissed, and Darkleer shuddered at his tone. "I'd a thought you'd be grateful. Wwhat do you wwant? To be an Executioner again? You knoww that's impossible. You ought to be grateful to me."

"I am," Darkleer choked out. "But, sir..."

He couldn't say it. It was too cowardly. He realized now that he had no more right to ask for death than he did to raise a hand and end his life himself. Dualscar decided his fate, and this was the fate he'd chosen for Darkleer - centuries of solitude and shame.

"Good," Dualscar said, satisfaction edging into his tone once again. "Wwell, for a second I thought you _wwanted_ to be culled. You don't wwant that, do you, boy?"

He wanted it. But he had no right to want it. Shame was his future, and nothing more or less.

Knowing that, he felt a kind of release. He knew what was going to happen, at least, even if he didn't like it. Knowing that, almost felt good. It reminded him of fantasies he'd once enjoyed, before he had stayed his hand, and sealed his fate.

He looked up at Dualscar, who sat before him like a king, a smirk curving his lips. Then Darkleer swallowed hard and bowed more deeply, feeling his body stir. "No, sir."

Dualscar leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and curled two fingers around a loose lock of Darkleer's hair. "Then beg me. Beg to livve."

He couldn't. He opened his mouth obediently, but his throat seemed to close as if his wind tube was caught in a vice. While he couldn't beg to die, nor could he falsely beg to live.

"I... I will beg to please you, highblood. Will that suffice?"

He snuck a look up at Dualscar. The sea dweller had a startled look of bemusement on his face, but quickly it folded into a pleased smile. He tugged on that captured lock of hair, and then cupped Darkleer's cheek again, rubbing a thumb over his lower lip.

"That'll be evven better."

Darkleer bent a little deeper, turning his head into that caress. "Highblood, there is nothing I wish more in my life than to serve those more worthy than myself. Please, how may I pleasure you?"

Debasing himself like this would be harder if he didn't enjoy it on some level. Each word dripped from his lips, feeling like foul oil on his tongue, but that disgusting sensation made his bulge begin to flush with blood, creeping out from behind its protective sheath and coiling in the loose pants he wore like an eager snake.

The highblood's fingers slid into his hair and fisted, then pulled him closer until Darkleer's face was level with his knee. He grunted, but didn't resist, catching himself on the floor with his bound hands as he was pulled off balance. Dualscar leaned close, and whispered into one pointed ear.

"All right, peasantblood. That's swweet so far, but you'vve got a wways to go yet. You can start, by beggin' to suck my bulge. An maybe I'll let you do it."

Darkleer looked up, not enough to see Darkleer's face, but to see his bulge. The movement of it was already visible at his groin, and the sight of it made his mouth go dry. Soon, he would have that slick, squirming tentacle in his mouth.

His shame couldn't be deeper. He might as well debase himself further, one last time, before he was cut off from his own kind forever.

He drew a breath and bent further, pulling against the grip on his hair. Dualscar hissed softly with displeasure, but he persisted until his face was close to the floor. Then he pressed his lips to the top of Dualscar's right boot.

Dualscar sighed and as Darkleer heard a rumble of amusement that was a kind of reward. The tightness in his chest eased a little.

"It would be my very great honour, highblood," Darkleer murmured. 

Dualscar snorted. "You're a fuckin' criminal noww, Darkleer. I'm not interested in honourin' you." He pulled hard on Darkleer's hair once more, dragging him up so he was level with his groin once more. "I'm interested in gettin' my bulge sucked."

"Please, then," Darkleer moaned. He could easily pull away, break his manacles, kill Dualscar, but he wouldn't. He let Dualscar manipulate his head, pushing forward a little, towards that squirming groin just before his eyes. "Please, let me, uh..." He found his cheeks flushing deeply, but forged on. "Please let me suck your bulge. I want to...so much. _Please_."

With each word, his own bulge grew more flushed with desire, more active, though he knew he'd get no relief. 

Dualscar smiled, the rough handling turning to gentle stroking motions, like a troll might pet his favourite barkbeast. "So swweet. I'll rewward you noww."

He leaned back on the sofa, and opened his fly with a few quick movements of his hands. His bulge eeled out immediately from the confining fabric, coiling around in search of a ready nook.

A nook Darkleer was sure it wasn't going to find. But it would find something nearly as good.

His breathing quickened at the sight of the organ, flushed royal purple and sheened with a fine layer of genetic material. He leaned forward, and Dualscar's legs parted to accommodate his broad, muscled frame, still powerful even after his weeks of imprisonment.

"Thank you, highblood," he whispered, and opened his mouth, bending to kiss the soft organ.

Dualscar murmured softly with pleasure and settled back, petting Darkleer's hair as he licked along its length, following the little frill of skin that ran along the edge. He'd never seen such a feature before - a quirk unique to sea dwellers, perhaps. 

The tentacle curled close to his heat, feeling its way up his cheek. Without his hands to guide it, Darkleer had to use his tongue, clumsily curling it around the organ and trying to pull it into his mouth.

It didn't take long for it to get the idea, and soon the slippery bulge curled into his mouth and wriggled deep, seeking the moist heat of his mouth as if it were a nook.

"Yes..." Dualscar hissed, his back arching and his hand clenching in Darkleer's hair again. "Fuck...yeah. That's right."

Darkleer closed his eyes and suckled, feeling heat rush through his body. The cool hands on him, the knees pressing against his shoulders, the manacles binding his wrists, the ache of his knees on the floor of the sea dweller's suite. 

It was heaven. The only kind of heaven he deserved. A kind that sickened him to want, but he wanted it, nevertheless.

He suckled at that writhing, coiling organ, struggling against a gag reflex when it thrust itself too deeply down his throat. Dualscar's own cries grew more frantic as the movements of the bulge grew more rhythmic and powerful, and Darkleer could only try to suck and lick and hang on.

When Dualscar finally came, it was all Darkleer could do to swallow it down. The genetic material poured down his throat until he thought he would drown in it - hoped he would drown in it. Perhaps this was a death he could live with.

But he didn't drown.

He pulled away when Dualscar let go of him, coughing and choking and wiping his dripping chin with his manacled hands. He slumped to the side, curling into a ball, his bulge aching with need and writhing between his legs, his nook pulsing with desire.

"Not bad," Dualscar said, panting and ragged, but obviously pleased. Darkleer looked up to see the sea dweller tucking himself back into his pants with a satisfied smirk. "Get a grip on yourself, boy. You'll be taken from here an released into the wwild in a few minutes."

Darkleer wasn't disappointed. He knew from the beginning that he'd get no relief for himself. And he also knew that culling wasn't in his future. He had performed well, so he would be exiled. A reward and punishment in one.

Dualscar bent over and gave him one last pet on the head. "But if you wwant to come back, you might send me a message. I'd dally wwith you again, perhaps, givve you a bit a relief from your solitude, if you're prepared to be so accommodatin' again in the future. For noww, though, I'm goin' to clean up."

Then the sea dweller rose and swept from the room, disappearing into the water in a ripple of cape and a splash.

Darkleer shook his head and pushed himself up to kneel, closing his eyes and breathing to try to control his body. He was going to be taken from this place and cast out. The least he could do, was do it with dignity.

If he had any of that left.


End file.
